


The World Spins Madly On

by underskinnyheart



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-08 11:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4303104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underskinnyheart/pseuds/underskinnyheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darlene is good at pushing people away, but something about that uptight Angela girl keeps bothering her. Things get interesting when the blonde crashes at hers without a valid reason.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Opening up to people is not Darlene's thing; she enjoys keeping her guilty pleasures to herself. That's the whole point of them, right? Keeping details private prevents her from opening up too much, become too predictable and most dangerously, from forming connections. She doesn't want anyone to get hurt because of her anymore, and if the price to pay is a lack of genuine bonds, then it's a small price, really. 

Yet, she wonders why she feels the need to spend her Sunday evenings watching reruns of CSI, a show she so fervently hates due to their technological inaccuracies. Somehow, the coldness of the Ben & Jerry's icecream she is holding in her hands doesn't quite compare to the coldness she can feel buried somewhere else.

A knock on the door, and Darlene is almost relieved that she can pause a particularly cringe-worthy scene and move to the door. 

Her icecream-holding hand almost spasms and she starts feeling self-conscious about the oversized Batman t-shirt that she wears as pyjamas. The midsummer's heat wave justifies the lack of any sort of shorts, but it takes on a whole different meaning when the person standing in front of you is Angela, Elliot's uptight friend that is too technologically unaware to be part of fsociety, which Darlene has pointed out to the old man a few times and frankly, the woman just seems to itch her the wrong way.

Before Darlene can conjure up her sarcasm to shoo her away mercilessly, Angela opens her stupid, perfectly shaped mouth. 

"I know this isn't really a good time to come over, and we're not exactly friends, but I really need a place to crash tonight and honestly, Elliot's place kind of creeps me out and all of my other friends just don't... get it."

The hacker sighs. She was about to interrupt when she heard the word "crash" because there is no way she was going to let this inexperienced and possibly vile blonde "crash" at her place; but she only understands too well how hard it is to keep friendships when everybody seems so happy, so carefree, so...blind. 

She stares at the floor for a few seconds, allowing for the two sides in her mind to argue for a bit, but it's no use since the battle was already won when the door opened and blue eyes met brown. Darlene steps to the side and the blonde walks in with a shyness that is just too genuine to annoy the female. 

Angela stops in her tracks, pauses for a few seconds and glances back at the hacker, an incredulous look on her face. 

"What?" The brunette makes sure to not sound too eager to talk, because she has no interest in getting to know the blonde and keeping a cold exterior always makes them slowly walk away, after the initial interest. 

"CSI, really? You of all people?"

Okay, this was a bad idea, she thinks. Not only does this woman invite herself into my apartment, my safe place, but also has the nerve to question my viewing choices? Has she not heard the kind of things I say at the arcade when people question my decisions?

Darlene would have loved to say that she had changed her mind and not let this turn into a girly slumber party (Angela has already removed her shoes and sat down on the sofa), but all that comes out is:

"They can be quite entertaining, and their understanding of the internet is more advanced than yours. Not that that's an achievement" She makes sure to shuffle in a mildly bored manner to the other end of the sofa, containing the smile that was about to creep on her face at the sight of the pure outrage dancing on Angela's features. This might turn out to be a fun evening after all.

***

It only took them two hours to stop feeling the awkwardness while sitting on the couch, which alarmed Darlene. The silence was almost...comforting. The rare friends that came over were usually fourty-somethings that smelled of smoke and were eager to help her test her newest rootkits. They were sweet, didn't ask too many questions and she even sometimes found that she genuinely enjoyed their company, yet, they were missing that little something. Yet, it had never felt that...

"Intimate. She was holding me close, and I inhaled her perfume, and-"

"Oh my god, Casey. You are so into her." 

Darlene rolled her eyes at fictional Bert. There is no way that the writers of this show are actually trying. But oh, who is she trying to trick. That is what she loves about television: if you find the right series, you will be able to follow the plotline just enough to occupy your brain, while not having to actually think. Television is mind-control, as the old man says. Sweet, comforting oblivion.

An oblivion that makes her forget that the best line that TV has ever witnessed is about to be uttered.

"I'll create a GUI interface using Visual Basic, see if I can track an IP address..."

Even before the classic quote ends, Darlene's shoulders start shaking with an uncontrollable giggle. She can sense Angela's confusion. 

"Oh, cut them some slack. I am pretty sure that they do not consider mysterious underground hackers to be their target demographic", she states, while leaning to get some popcorn from the bowl that is sitting on the other side of the brunette. 

Darlene, due to her laughing fit, only opens her eyes when she smells a soft perfume (soft lavender, mixed with strawberry?) notifying her of the closeness. Just when Angela is about to lean back into her place, the hacker briskly turns her head so that they are face to face, which causes the blonde to freeze.

"So you find me mysterious, Ange?" 

Angela's eyes grow wide and a blush quickly graces her cheeks. The brunette should not find this that satisfying, but she does, and decides to push it a bit further. A little messing around can't possibly hurt anyone, can it? She not-so-innocently takes some popcorn herself, grazing her hand against Angela's, which is frozen mid-bowl. Unexpectedly, Darlene gets caught in her own game, as right when their hands touch, an electric current passes through them. Angela jerks hers away rapidly, while Darlene just lowers hers, defeated. She turns her head nonchalantly towards the screen and says, a bit too loudly for it to be natural, something about the show, she can't remember anymore. All that Darlene could think about was lavender and heat. A heat that has to be suppressed if she doesn't want to experience a very, very inappropriate turn of events.


	2. Chapter 2

The sudden buzzing sound woke her up instantly; she had always been a light sleeper. The first thing Darlene realised was that she was warm, comfortably so. Somebody was lying on top of her; one of their arms was laced around the hacker's waist, and their legs were positioned on top of hers, in a very monopolising manner. It felt safe, it felt right, and it was exactly what wasn't supposed to happen. As she rubbed her eyes, Darlene slid her arm away from Angela's back. It had been lying at that little spot at the bottom of one's back that screams intimacy.

Darlene almost had a stroke when she felt the blonde shoot up from her spot. Somebody was in pretty deep, she thought to herself.

"Wha-" Angela didn't finish that word, as she realised that by violently raising herself up from her sleeping position, she had successfully managed to straddle the other woman, and had both of her extended arms that supported her weight on either side of Darlene's shoulders, effectively blocking her from getting up.

A small smile appeared on the brunette's lips.

"Oh, so you're into this kind of stuff, huh?"

Darlene had never seen somebody stumble that rapidly out of bed before. As Angela started collecting her stuff, the brunette lazily lifted her own body from the couch. As she stretched her arms, she let out an annoyed groan. Her back was hurting. Fuck the couch. 

As she turned around, Darlene had to stop herself from giggling. Angela was looking at her reflection using the brunette's majestic wall mirror that was shaped like an explosion of hearts. She was holding the hem of her t-shirt and seemed utterly terrified at the thought of going to work in the same clothes as the ones she had slept in. This girl had clearly never come into contact with the hacker world.

"Hey, you can take one of my shirts, y'know." 

The relief in the blonde's face was so stupidly adorable that Darlene made the mental promise to stop being nice to people. Since when did she start doing that again anyway? A short glance at her wardrobe, and Darlene knew exactly what she was going to so willingly lend out to the woman. 

***

"Hey Ange, why do you keep readjusting your jacket? It's as if you were embarrassed by that t-shirt I gave you."

It was early in the morning and the subway faintly smelled of sweat and various intoxicating substances, including lavender. Angela sighed in a "don't play coy" tone that certainly did not cause Darlene to have a little internal reaction. Then, she moved her arm away from her chest, an arm that had been perfectly positioned to hide the black t-shirt that read "RUN DMC" in big letters. 

"You enjoy embarrassing me, don't you?" 

Darlene allowed her face to quirk into a large smile, but said nothing.

"What have I done to you to deserve this?" Angela's gaze was intense, piercing and frankly, Darlene felt as if there was something more hidden in her eyes.

As the doors opened and more people stepped inside, the women were forced to move closer in the already tightly packed subway. The brunette made sure to take this opportunity to stand illegally close to Angela.

What had gotten Darlene into hacking was the undeniably satisfying rush of accomplishment. The rush of bypassing firewalls, figuring out how to crack the uncrackable, how to destroy the indestructible. She had always been an energetic child, one that wanted to lead and was good at it. But growing up in a bad neighbourhood and having a pull towards disrespecting the law led to many bad confrontations. At some point during her particularly hard teenage period, the young girl discovered hacking. It felt safer than the real world, almost welcoming, and just as rewarding. Most importantly, hacking was merciful; if she didn't do a certain manipulation right the first time, she could always reboot the virtual machine and restart the simulation. Assembly code and rap basically saved her life. 

However, as she stood there in front of a blonde with a perfect appearance, if you didn't count the t-shirt and the small bags under her eyes, Darlene could not help but feel the same rush as she experienced while running in the streets; sometimes to escape a bully, other times to remember what it had felt like to do so. The woman knew she was making all the wrong choices, as she was basically violating a dozen of her self-imposed rules that have allowed her to make it this far. Yet, Darlene couldn't give less of a fuck.

"The question is, what will you do to deserve this?" The hacker's intensity matched that of Angela's, and for a brief moment, they were not in a cramped wagon, but somewhere else, possibly in an alternate world, with only the two of them and no fourth dimension.

When the doors opened again, Darlene stepped out without a goodbye; there was no need for one, as they would meet again very soon. That t-shirt was one of her favourites.


	3. Chapter 3

Thursdays.  
That day when you are tired enough, as you have worked for half the week already, but not close enough to the weekend to feel excited about the time off you will get. Coincidentally, her boss recently got into the habit of scheduling an accountant meeting on that day nearly every week, and to say the least, she loathed those Thursday morning gatherings with a burning passion. To make matters worse, even though it wasn't the most important aspect of her life, her favourite café hired a student named Stacy that smiled unconvincingly and always mixed up her order as a part-time worker. Of course, she covered the midday shift every fourth day of the week. Angela hated Thursdays.

She walked towards her desk, deeply concentrating on her "Trash Thursdays" ritual, and then, she stopped. A brunette, wearing heart-shaped sunglasses, striped tights and holding a pink lollipop in her right hand. A brunette, sitting on her work desk, swaying her legs back and forth in a playful manner-

"You. What are you doing here? How did you even get in?" Angela noticed the way her voice rose in pitch as her initial surprise became anger. This woman had the power to embarrass her in front of her colleagues so very easily that it was probably already a crime for her to even be here.

"Calm down, Ange. I just thought it would be a nice thing to do, to visit you here." Darlene's tone was so sugarcoated that Angela let out a small "bullshit" as she fired up her PC and removed her coat, attempting to imply that the presence of the other woman didn't trouble her at all. 

As the blonde turned away from her to retrieve a folder from her desk, Darlene spoke up. 

"By the way, I got in by telling them that I was your girlfriend."

"You what?"

At that, Darlene laughed as if it was the most trivial thing in the world. Angela was not in the mood for light jokes. Did this lawless woman have idea how this sort of... rumour could impact her reputation? She might be a closeted bisexual but she would never date someone like Darlene. A cyberthief, a woman without morals, and physically... anyway, the hacker was obviously bad news.

"Ange, you should worry about the fact that I didn't actually have to do any convincing. The guards let me in, just like that. So, is the security at this place complete shit or is there something you haven't told me yet?" 

Angela ignored the huge blush that burned her cheeks, took two huge steps and leaned forward, so that her face was inches away from Darlene's. The brunette was clearly taken aback by this turn of events. Perfect, the account executive thought. Now is my time to counter-attack.

Putting on her coldest expression possible in these circumstances, Angela uttered: 

"You should leave. I'll give the t-shirt to Elliot tomorrow."

The blonde would be lying if she said that she wasn't enjoying this. It felt new, exciting, plus Darlene's eyes were electric and strangely pleasant to stare at.

"Oh, I didn't come here for the t-shirt." The hacker leaned just a infinitely small amount towards Angela, but it already felt way too close. 

The staring contest lasted a few more seconds, then abruptly, Darlene backed away and stood up. She looked at the ceiling, rolled her eyes and sighed. 

"You are no fun." And with that, the brunette walked out of the building with a slight swagger that was unique to her.

For some mysterious reason, Angela couldn't help but feel disappointed. As she sat down in front of her desktop, her mind wandered to the ridiculousness of this whole exchange. Darlene stood out in the picture: she obviously did not belong here. The woman was wild, eccentric, foul-mouthed and untameable. She obviously didn't want anything to do with tidy 9-to-5 employees at a cyber-security firm. Yet, Angela couldn't help but have respect for her. She had always played by the rules and held people that righteously got to the top in high esteem, but her late night talks with Elliot these past few weeks have been enlightening and frankly, quite unsettling. She had started to realise something quite simple: we understand something as being "bad" or "good" depending on how the law reacts to it, but the law was made by humans, thus it is flawed and reflects the moral standards of a limited part of society. "Nothing is black and white," he had said one evening, after a long silence. "There is no grey area either. It's a spectrum of colours, all representing different situations. Everything has flaws. It's impossible to be completely and utterly fair, Angela. But the least we can do is try." Then, he had gazed back towards the stars. She remembers getting up to make herself a cup of coffee, only to realise on her way back that Elliot had left.

Her train of thought got interrupted by an unexpectedly loud sound that erupted from her computer's speakers. Music started playing, getting the attention of a dozen employees that were standing nearby. Even though Angela pressed control and alt and delete, opened the task manager and stopped all suspicious processes, the song went on, deafeningly. It sounded something like old rap. As she violently unplugged the speakers, Angela was reminded once again why she hated Thursdays.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am comfort trash

Angela had seen Darlene cry a total of two times. Once, the teenage rebel had ran to her house after a particularly violent fight with her mom; she had been sixteen and had just started smoking. The next time was almost a decade later; a clumsy intern at the ballet school had accidentally bumped into her and a heavy iron bar had fallen onto her leg. It broke. Both times, Darlene had tried to keep the tears in, because that's what she does. She protects herself.  
Yet, as the brunette stood in the doorway on an early Friday morning, she made no attempt at hiding the puffiness of her eyes.

Angela stepped aside to let the other woman enter her dad's place. She wasn't sure what to ask, and whether asking in itself was the right thing to do. Darlene shuffled to the tiny kitchen, her arms wrapped around her own body, and even though the room was small, Darlene was hardly noticeable. 

When Angela pressed the light switch, the hacker's eyes glistened, so she looked away. It was always awkward, at times like these. The former exec wanted to reach out and help, but each time she tried forming words, she would just see Elliot's eyes looking back at her and Angela would be reminded that there would always be this divide. It had taken forever to get the loud-mouth rap enthusiast to trust the uptight grade A student. Even though their friendship had not been through any major hardships (except that one time in 11th grade when Darlene got really jealous of Angela for having a boyfriend and never really explained why), the blonde could not help but see it as something fragile, that couldn't be pushed too hard. Nothing had ever been simple, so Angela's guard was always up.

"He kissed me... again." 

When you think about breathing or blinking, you become hyper-aware and tasks that used to be automatic and effortless have to be handled consciously. Angela had forgotten how to breathe, and it was hard to focus on what Darlene was saying when all she could hear was the irregular contraction of her lugs and the hollowness in the woman's voice.

"Fuck."

Angela wasn't in the kitchen but at Darlene's apartment. The brunette hadn't cried that time as she had been under shock. Elliot had behaved in a distant way with her for some time, so the woman had decided to take him to a fun fair that was taking place that summer. They had bought cotton candy and Darlene had even won a teddybear. Then, he had kissed her. She had freaked out, ran back home, locked herself in and called Angela. 

"Yeah. My thoughts exactly." Exit apartment, back to kitchen.

Angela approached the table. She leaned down, slowly, and wrapped her arms around the hacker, allowing her head to rest on the woman's shoulder. It was a bit uncomfortable as Darlene was failing to show any kind of reaction. Then, the brunette tiredly moved one of her arms and locked hands with the blonde. Darlene squeezed. When they hold hands, Darlene never squeezes. She might use her thumb to stroke the back of Angela's palm, and regularly play with the rings or bracelets that she might be wearing, but never this, never too much, never too vulnerable.

They stayed like that for a few minutes. Two pale figures in a tiny kitchen with an occasionally flickering lightbulb. Angela thought about ballet, because at this point she would be willing to think about anything but the subject matter. Ballet, for which she had gotten up at 6 every Saturday for six years. Darlene had texted her a day after Angela had moved into her dad's house, telling her that it was no big deal if she wasn't willing to come anymore due to the distance. The blonde got up at 4:30 the next day, and seeing the other woman's face when she entered the room barely a few minutes late was what motivated her to wake up at a inhumanly early hour the following weeks. _Is this your way of showing your dedication to the art of performance?_ , the brunette had teased. Angela did not say anything. She was not saying anything now either, and this time, she wouldn't be able to brush it off. She could feel Darlene getting fidgety.

" Your brother will be fine." Maybe saying it out loud will make real, somehow? "He's got you and me."

Darlene started playing with the ring the blonde was wearing. The tears were threatening and she couldn't fucking help it.

"Up until two hours ago he couldn't even remember who I was, Ange. He couldn't even..."

The light flickered. Three times. Meanwhile, Elliot was arguing with a man that was long gone.

**Author's Note:**

> The updates might be irregular & the quality of writing might vary, I apologise in advance!


End file.
